Epic
by Failure Turtle
Summary: You want it all but you can't have it. Gregory HelmsxOC
1. Perfect

**A/N: A GREGORY HELMSXOC STORY? NO WAY!**

**Yeah, that's what this is. You read correctly. I will say now that he will not appear for a while. All stories need a back story. Word.**

**And with that, I leave you with my final words. "Hey, Santino, it's a-me, Cody Rhodes." Sorry about that…I found that funny.**

_Perfect adj. (pur-fikt)_

_1. entirely without any flaws, defects or shortcomings_

_2. accurate, exact, or correct in every detail_

_3. pure or unmixed_

Vince's office.

It was a rather daunting place, and a place that few people ever wanted to find themselves in. Sure, sometimes good news was shared behind those doors, but it was a rare occasion…

…especially with Vince's current expression.

"Do you want the good news or the bad news?" Vince asked, pushing his reading glasses further up his nose and opening an envelope that was sealed and placed on his desk.

"There's good news?" Alisha questioned, scratching an itch in her brunette hair.

"Is there not supposed to be good news? Jesus, I'm not some anti-happiness jerk from another planet, Alisha. What kind of brainwashing has everyone put you through?" he said, squinting at the Diva in front of him.

"None, sir," Alisha quickly replied shaking off the comment she had just made. "So you were saying?"

"Just a moment," Vince mumbled. He opened up his e-mail account on his computer and typed up a quick response. After he finished, he removed his reading glasses and folded his hands together on top of the mahogany surface, looking Alisha in the eye. "Alright, so the good news is that the writers have finally found something for you that you haven't done yet. The bad news is that you're leaving RAW."

Alisha's eyes instantly widened. "Leaving RAW? You mean going to SmackDown?"

"Yes, that is correct. You're basically useless in ECW right now, so SmackDown is our only option. But since you are leaving RAW, that also means that you are leaving…" Vince trailed off, raising his eyebrows.

The corners of Alisha's mouth almost flickered into a smile, but she quickly held them down. "I'm going to have to leave him, aren't I?"

"That, Alisha, is entirely up to you. There is no rule that intra-roster relationships cannot exist here in the WWE. I do have to warn you that they are very difficult with the separate schedules. Do whatever it is that you think is the best for the both of you," Vince explained with a kind smile.

"Thank you, Mr. McMahon," Alisha nodded, leaving the office.

* * *

"John, I have some bad news…John, we need to talk…John…" Alisha mumbled to herself, pacing back and forth outside the door of the Superstar's locker room. She was waiting for John to finish getting ready to leave.

"Ready to go?" John asked as he exited the room, throwing his arm around Alisha.

"Uh, John? Can you like, not be a gentleman for like three seconds?" Alisha asked, roughly shaking his arm off of her.

"What are you talking about?" John asked in shock. Never had a woman tell him to stop being a nice guy.

"Why do you have to be so fucking perfect, John? I hate it! It disgusts me! It's a good fucking thing that I'm going to SmackDown now. I don't have to deal with your bullshit anymore. You know what? We're done," Alisha said, turning around and not so accidentally smacking John with her duffel bag on the way.

No, she didn't like John Cena. She didn't even want to be around him. Breaking up with him was something she had wanted to do for a while.

But how do you think she got all of the title shots and special attention from Vince.

That's right. She was using John Cena to get her way, and he was oblivious to it.

**A/N: Short start up chapter, as usual. The next couple of chapters will be flashbacks of Alisha using John and stuff…then she's off to SmackDown. Sweet.**

**Review. **


	2. Impression

**A/N: I was going to update "Wrestling Royalty," but I like this one better…**

**Oh, and Brit said I'd never have time to update this. So this is for her.**

_Impression n. (im-presh-uhn)_

_1. a strong effect produced on the intellect, feelings, conscience, etc._

_2. the first and immediate effect of an experience or perception upon the mind; sensation_

_3. the effect produced by an agency or influence_

_4. a notion, remembrance, belief, etc., often of a vague or indistinct nature_

**Flashback**

"Alisha? Is that your real name or just a ring name? It's really pretty," Mickie asked, lying on her stomach across a bench in the Diva's locker room.

"It's my real name," Alisha sweetly smiled, trying to be as nice as she could. _Wow, this girl is way too nice for my liking_, she thought to herself while still forcing her fake smile.

"See any guys you like yet?" Mickie asked.

"The only dude I've seen in this place so far is Vince, and I don't find him that attractive," Alisha laughed.

"Want to meet some of them?" Mickie asked, arching an eyebrow.

"We could do that," Alisha said slowly, and evil grin forming on her face.

"You're plotting something, aren't you?"

"No, not at all, Mickie. I just like hot guys. Is that so wrong?" Alisha laughed.

"Don't we all?" Mickie giggled, hopping onto her feet. "Let's go, darling," she said. The girls linked arms and walked together out of the locker room.

"So, who are we meeting first?" Alisha asked, walking faster and almost dragging Mickie alongside her.

"I don't know…Probably whoever we run into," Mickie explained. "Oh, here's a good one. Randy! Over here!" Mickie called the Legend Killer over to her and Alisha. "Randy, this is Alisha. She's the new Diva."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Alisha," Randy said, taking her hand in a gentlemanly manner and kissing it.

"I…um…hi," Alisha finally managed to say, severely taken aback by Randy's good looks and boyish charm. She eyed the sparkly WWE Championship belt draped over his shoulder. "Oh, so _you're_ the champion?" she asked in almost a demeaning tone, as if she didn't believe that the writers would let _him_ hold the title. "So does that mean you're like the top dog around here?"

"Actually, I am," Randy winked.

"Oh, shut up, Randy," Mickie interjected. "The only reason you have that thing is because John's filming his movie." Mickie turned to Alisha and said, "John's the _real_ top dog around here. He has Vince wrapped around his finger."

Randy gave let out a disgusted sigh next to them. Mickie turned back to him and said, "Well maybe if you didn't think it was such a good idea to get stoned backstage and trash hotel rooms, Vince would love you just as much as he does John."

"Hey, I'd make better movies," Randy said.

"Yeah, but the only kind of movies you'd want to make are of the pornographic variety," Mickie retorted, rolling her eyes.

Randy ran a hand down his shirt covered abs. "Can you blame me? It's nice to meet you, Alisha, but I have to go. Maybe we can…hang out sometime."

"See you later, Randy," Alisha widely smiled. Once Randy was out of earshot and eyesight, Alisha said to Mickie, "Wow, what a creep."

"Yeah, he gets like that sometimes. You'll get used to it. He's just being Randy. He's been getting depressed since I'm the first Diva that didn't sleep with him on her first night in the company," Mickie explained.

"Well you don't have to worry about me," Alisha quickly said. "He's not my type."

"Randy isn't any girl's type, to be honest," Mickie sighed.

"So…about this John character…Can I meet him?" Alisha asked, her eyes widening.

"Yeah, John's a really nice guy. It may seem like he's got some self-esteem issues, but he really doesn't. And when I say 'self-esteem issues,' I mean he kind of rubs people the wrong way. Sometimes it seems like he's full of himself, but he has to act like that or Hunter will chew him out for sure."

"Hunter? Triple H?"

"Yeah…He likes to push his power around backstage, but he's really nice with the Divas. You shouldn't have any problems with him. The one you should worry about is Stephanie. She's really bitter about the current Diva situation, but you shouldn't have any problems. From what I hear, you can actually wrestle and thank god for that."

Just then, a large crowd of Superstars exited the nearby catering room. "Oh, John! Over here!" Mickie yelled over all the hustle and bustle.

"What's up, James?" John asked, nodding at her as he made his way over to the girls.

"This is Alisha," Mickie said, introducing the two.

"Alisha…That's a nice name. You're gorgeous, by the way," John said, politely complimenting his new acquaintance.

"Thanks. You're not so bad yourself," Alisha said, returning the compliment.

"Well I have to run and meet Vince and discuss when I'm getting that bad boy off of Orton's shoulder, so…" John said, explaining why he had to leave but not really wanting to leave. "I'll see you later?" he asked Alisha.

"Anytime," she smiled.

"Ladies," John winked, addressing them one last time before leaving.

"He likes you," Mickie flatly said with no emotion.

"What's wrong with you? You sound all depressed," Alisha noticed.

"Nothing…it's just that…"

"Go on."

"John likes _everyone_."

Alisha nodded in understanding. She smirked to herself, knowing that if she properly aligned herself with John Cena, then she could have whatever she wanted.


	3. Deception

_Deception n. (di-sep-shuhn)_

_1. the act of deceiving; the state of being deceived_

_2. something that deceives or is intended to deceive_

_3. the use of deceit_

_4. the fact of being deceived_

_5. a ruse; a trick_

**Flashback**

"Excuse me?" Alisha snapped, looking over the match card for the night that Stephanie McMahon had just given her. As she was scanning it, her eyes stopped when she saw the following on the card for the third match:

_Alisha Cortez versus Beth Phoenix: Singles match. Winner: Beth Phoenix by pin fall._

"Is there a problem with that?" Stephanie asked with a bitchy tone in her voice, almost as if to warn Alisha that _she_ had control of what did and did not happen in the ring.

"Well, kind of," Alisha retorted back, forgetting that Stephanie was her boss. "I kind of don't want to die or get injured in my first official match in the WWE. Is _that_ a problem?"

Stephanie raised her eyebrows and smirked at Alisha. "Well I hope you _do_ get injured in tonight's match. If you're out of action, then there will _definitely_ be no problem." She turned on her heel and walked away, muttering something about how no one respects her anymore and how most of the new talent will probably be released in a week.

"Is she fucking kidding me?" Alisha said to herself after Stephanie was out of earshot. She crumpled up the night's match card in her fist and tossed it to the ground. She stomped her foot on it and stormed back to the Diva's locker room. "What a little cunt…Who the fuck does she think she is?...She can't just go around talking to people like that…No respect…I hope the tramp gets hit by a car…Her implants are terrible…Jericho was right when he said 'let the boobies hit the floor'…I want to get her pregnant ass in the ring with me…" Alisha muttered as she headed towards her destination, not caring who she passed or who had heard her.

"Let me guess. Stephanie?" a voice asked to her right. Alisha stopped in her tracks to look at the interrupter, turning to see him.

"Yeah, John. How did you know?" Alisha wondered as John stepped out of the shadows near the wall.

"Well, the terms _cunt, fuck, implants, Jericho,_ and_ pregnant_ usually all relate to Stephanie," he chuckled. "Besides, I could hear the argument you two were having. She's usually not as bitchy as she was to you. I think it's the hormones from her pregnancy or something."

"I hope you're right," Alisha sighed, faking her sympathy towards Stephanie's situation. _Come on, motherfucker. Feel sorry for me…_

"Well, what happened with you two? Did you already have a falling out or something? I mean, you really haven't been here that long, and…"

"She wants me to fight Beth Phoenix tonight," Alisha quickly blurted out, then widened her eyes to give off the effect that she didn't mean to let all of that out. She then gasped and covered her mouth, turning around and facing away from John, now faking her embarrassment.

"Already? But this is your first match. Stephanie can't do that to you. How are you going to make a name for yourself if you get trashed in your first match? I'll talk to Vince for you if you'd like," John offered, walking up behind her and putting his arm around her shoulders.

Alisha tensed up, but not on purpose. She wasn't used to such idiocy from men, and by idiocy, she meant the fact that John was so trusting. In all honesty, Alisha knew she wasn't one to trust. In fact, she rarely used the term "honesty" in the same thought as herself.

"No, John, you don't have to," she said, denying his offer. "I mean, I guess I _have_ to do it…Even though it's probably going to hurt _really_ badly…And I might break a bone or get a concussion…Or she'll injure me in my first WWE match just like how Victoria injured her…But really, John, I'll be fine."

"That's it, Alisha. I'm talking to Vince about this," John demanded. "I'll be right back, okay?"

"Oh…Okay…" she sighed, pretending that she didn't think that him talking to Vince was such a good idea, and pretending to wipe a nonexistent tear from her eye. "If it's not too much t—" She was going to say "trouble," but John was already storming down to Vince's office.

Alisha snapped out of her false sadness and smirked to herself. "This is too easy," she whispered.

She heard loud footsteps coming her way, and she turned the emotion back on. Her right hand was over her eyes and her left arm was crossed over her stomach. She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and she turned around, slowly bringing her hand down from her face.

"It's okay, Alisha. The match has changed. Mickie's fighting her tonight now and you're just going to be at ringside for Mickie. Are you alright now?" John said, smiling at her, his ego fulfilled since he had just played the role of the knight in shining armor.

Or so he thought.

Just as easily as she turned the emotion on, she amplified it. She made herself cry and threw herself into John's arms. "Oh, John, thank you so much," she sobbed. "Really, I don't know how to thank you…"

"I think I can think of something."


End file.
